


Good for Daddy

by septiplier500



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Bloodplay, Bruises, Butt Plugs, Choking, Cock & Ball Torture, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Fishnets, Forced Orgasm, High Heels, M/M, Marking, Masochism, Mild Blood, Nipple Clamps, Paddling, Pain Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Scratching, Sex Toys, Slapping, Subspace, Welts, hitachi wand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 15:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8719084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/septiplier500/pseuds/septiplier500
Summary: “Y'know what I figure? I figure you’re nervous about gettin’ inta subspace t'day, so yer tryin’ to start shit so I’ll put you there.”


  Mark fidgets, adjusting his heeled shoes on the floor. “Maybe,” he says thickly. 


  “Ya don’t have ta be a rude little shit about it. These games’re fer both of us, but they’re mostly about you, cos you belong ta Daddy. Ya don’t have ta feel weird about askin’ me t’ put you through your paces proper.”

-
Jack takes excellent care of his boyfriend.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [Rebloggable version on Tumblr](http://septiplier500.tumblr.com/post/153715013832/good-for-daddy).

Mark saunters out into the living room, hips swaying with effortless confidence – and it’s no small feat considering the high heels he’s perched in, their height forcing his feet into a sharp arch, calves tensed to compensate for the unfamiliar angle. The soft gold-brown skin of his legs is cross-hatched by tight fishnet, the suspenders of his garter belt flashing beneath his skirt as he walks. The skirt is a scant little thing, black and pleated, the front rippling where his bare cock is tenting the material. 

Jack licks his lower lip as he watches him, slumped back into the couch and jerking himself lazily through the open front of his jeans. “Ya weren’t kiddin’,” he mumbles, eyes lifting to track Mark as the other man moves to stand in front of him, “It’s _way_ shorter than th’ rest a’ yer skirts.” 

Mark smirks slowly, leaning forward to put his palms on Jack’s knees. “Does Daddy like it?” he asks in a low purr, ducking his head to use his mascara-streaked lashes to full advantage. 

“'Course I do,” Jack says immediately. He gives his dick a brief squeeze for pace’s sake before drawing his hand away from himself, nodding at Mark to sit on his lap. “Go on, then.” 

Mark’s frown is almost a pout. “I can’t really sit on your dick if you’ve got your pants on, Jack.” 

“Who says yer gettin’ it anyhow?” Jack asks. He reaches up, hooking a finger through the front of Mark’s thin, crystal-flecked collar, tugging until Mark obediently clamors into his lap. His knees settle down on either side of Jack’s hips, the thick curve of his ass balancing uncomfortably on Jack’s knees. “That’s fer Daddy t’ decide, don'tcha think?” Jack asks, laughing, and bounces his legs so that Mark has to clutch at Jack’s arms to keep from falling.

“Sure, if Daddy wants to be an asshole about it,” Mark grumbles mutinously. 

“Lookit you, gettin’ mouthy,” Jack tuts, keeping hold of Mark’s collar. “Keep yer pretty face still for me, Mark.” 

Mark’s adam’s apple dips behind the leather of his collar but he nods tightly. Jack smiles to make it clear he’s pleased, and then he smacks Mark with his free hand. Mark grunts, flinching, but doesn’t move his face away. Jack hits him again and Mark shivers, eyes going glossy from a mixture of pain and subspace, his mouth falling open and staying that way even after the third slap.  
Jack sits up a little, letting Mark’s collar go so he can instead cup the back of his neck. He draws Mark down for an imperfect kiss, both of them already panting; some of Jack’s spit is still on Mark’s lower lip when he draws back and hits him again. Mark gasps his name, shuddering, but doesn’t waver from keeping still. 

“When we’re playin’ like this, y’ don’t _talk_ t’ me like that,” says Jack, rubbing his fingers over the vivid flush on both of Mark’s cheeks, “You know better.”

“Yes,” Mark says, dyed bangs in his eyes, his face tilting into Jack’s hand. 

“Go on an’ get yer plug, th’ big one,” says Jack, patting Mark’s knee to let him know he has full permission to get up. 

“Jack,” Mark whines immediately, then corrects himself, “Daddy. _Please_. I’d rather have you inside me.” 

“Not-uh, none o’ that,” Jack says, giving Mark’s gorgeous legs a little shove. “You’ve got a lesson ta learn still, dollface. Don’t make me tell you again.”

Mark is shaky on his feet when he gets up, teetering briefly in his heels before he finds his balance again with Jack putting a hand on his hip to help him. Jack stands up after him to mind that Mark doesn’t fall over as he walks, and they both head into the bedroom in search of their sex toy chest. Jack ends up deciding to bring the whole box out, and sets it on the coffee table while he has Mark bend over in front of the couch, palms flat on the cushions. 

“Arch yer arse out,” Jack says, brandishing the aforementioned plug. It’s pretty standard, just a neon purple cone with a flared base, thicker than Jack’s cock but shorter too. He uses a toy wipe on it to ensure there’s no dust and then follows that up with lube, spreading it liberally.

The skirt is rucked up a bit, exposing the muscled swell of Mark’s ass. Jack can see the lacy black hem of Mark’s garter belt where it hugs the top of Mark’s butt. “What’s yer safe word?” he quizzes the other man, palming one of Mark’s cheeks so he can spread his crack. 

“Undertale,” recites Mark, and his shoulders shiver with a brief, choked laugh. Jack grins in spite of himself. 

“Keep it in mind,” Jack says, fitting the tip of the plug against Mark’s asshole. The muscles give just a bit, lax with how turned on Mark is; Jack twists the plug, the gesture eased by ample lubricant. Mark’s hole resists for a long moment before relaxing, allowing for the first firm press of silicone. “Y’ open up so _pretty_ for me,” Jack says in soft, rough-voiced wonder. 

“I’d rather be opening up for your dick,” Mark pants. 

Jack clucks his tongue, disappointed. “Dunno why yer tryin’ ta get yerself in so much _trouble_ today, Mark.” He pushes harder than necessary on purpose, forcing Mark’s ass to accept the widest flare of the plug. Mark groans, fingers digging into the couch cushion, legs trembling until his body gives in and the plug slides in all the way to the base. “S'like every inch of ya wants t’ be good fer Daddy ‘cept yer _mouth_.” 

“Well it’s always had a mind of its own,” Mark admits, laughing breathlessly, and Jack can hear the smirk on Mark’s face even if he can’t see it from this angle. “Sorry, Daddy,” he adds without an ounce of sincerity. 

Jack shakes his head and goes back to the box, ferreting around in the tangle of dildos and whips and bondage bits. He finds his favorite paddle – a flexible leather one with a heart cut out of the middle, a relic from their early days of buying toys in local shops – and a pair of plain clamps for Mark’s nipples. 

“Y'know what I figure?” Jack asks rhetorically, reaching beneath Mark and plucking at his nipples one at a time to stiffen them up, “I figure you’re _nervous_ about gettin’ inta subspace t'day, so yer tryin’ to start shit so I’ll _put_ you there.”  

Mark fidgets, adjusting his heeled shoes on the floor. “Maybe,” he says thickly. 

“Ya don’t have ta be a rude little _shit_ about it,” Jack says, chuckling, and fixes the first clamp on Mark’s nipple. Mark hisses and his chest hitches, but he doesn’t change his position. “These games’re fer _both_ of us, but they’re mostly _about_ you, cos you belong ta Daddy. Ya don’t have ta feel weird about askin’ me t’ put you through your paces proper.” 

Mark groans as the second clamp bites into his nipple. “I hear you,” Mark says, flexing his fingers against the couch. He turns his head, looking up at Jack through the limp sprawl of his hair, his smile soft and a little heated. “Next time I’ll be more _direct_.” 

“I didn’t say ya _had_ to,” Jack says cheerfully, stepping back out of view so he can bring the paddle down across Mark’s raised ass, “Jus’ ta keep in mind you’ve got options.” 

“Oh, _fuck_ , Daddy,” Mark groans, and there’s a reverent tremble in his voice again. Jack’s got them back on track. 

Jack gets him with quick, stinging smacks, mindful not to accidentally catch his garter straps. He doesn’t spread the hits out, instead just fixating on Mark’s ass. Mark’s skin becomes flushed with heart-centered red marks that overlap each other, sloppy and absolutely gorgeous. 

When he’s satisfied with the ground work, Jack stops to switch the plug’s vibrations on, holding the base while Mark shivers and clenches, forced to rapidly adjust to the sensation. He fucks Mark shallowly, angling the plug to drag it against Mark’s tender inner flesh, Mark’s mewled growls egging him on. 

“After I’m done makin’ it so ya can’t sit fer a few days-” and that gets the exact kind of desperate keen rumbling in Mark’s chest that Jack expected “-Daddy’s gonna fuck yer rude little mouth until ya can’t talk either,” Jack says, maxing out the vibrations, “An’ come all over yer face.” 

“ _Yes_ ,” Mark groans fervently. 

Jack makes sure the plug is still well settled before going back to the paddle. Mark spreads his thighs and arches his ass higher and Jack allows it, admiring the way some of his marks are turning red-purple in stripes where the leather hit hardest. He paddles back over those places the most, drawing enthusiastically agonized shouts out of his boyfriend. There’s not a single heart left unblemished, but there’s dozens of lines from them left behind, crossing over each other and fading beneath rising welts.

Jack tosses the paddle back in the box when he’s done, smoothing his palms over Mark’s ass and greedily kneading to feel the fevered heat of fresh bruises. He curls his fingers inward, dragging his nails until blood’s lightly beading on the worst of the welts. Mark sobs his name, the syllables stuttering into a sharp cry of “ _daddy_!” 

“Yer bein’ so good, lettin’ go fer me,” Jack coos, easing his aggressive grip to pet Mark’s marked up skin tenderly, Mark shivering constantly beneath his touch. He pauses to get a toy wipe for his hands; there’s not much blood, but he doesn’t want to stain the couch or something by accident. He drags his newly clean fingers through his hair, taking a moment to catch his breath and recollect himself. 

Pain’s always been the best way to bring Mark into sub space, communicating with him on a level that no words or romantic gestures can match. It’s a bliss that Jack only vaguely understands himself because his own minor pain kink is nothing like Mark’s: Jack just likes the spice of it, Mark seems to need it the same way he needs a reassuring cuddle after a bad week. It’s like a warm bath or a cup of builder’s tea: it seeps down deep in Mark’s chest and resettles him, helps him face the next challenge with a clear head and a calm spirit. 

And Jack won’t deny him that.

“Safe word,” he asks Mark again. 

“Undertale,” Mark breathes, without any of his earlier sassiness. 

“Say it again for me,” Jack says, moving around to Mark’s side. 

“Undertale,” Mark repeats obediently. 

Jack gets a handful of Mark’s hair and yanks, careful to keep his fingers as close to Mark’s scalp as possible for the best control of his head. Mark stumbles, flinching as Jack jerks him away from the couch and shoves him towards the floor, using Mark’s lack of balance in heels to make up for Jack’s smaller size. Mark catches himself on a hand and ducks down, scrambling to situate himself on his knees before Jack yanks him again.

“Yer bein’ good fer Daddy,” Jack praises, using his free hand to get his cock out of his jeans. He’s been hard since before Mark waltzed out into the living room, so it’s easy to roll the top of his foreskin back. He taps the exposed head against Mark’s mouth, and Mark’s lips part immediately, eyes lifting to watch Jack intently while he waits for permission. 

Mark is fucking gorgeous on his knees like this, his skirt visibly damp in the front from his erection, his sex-messy hair partially obscuring the side of his face. His bare chest is heaving as he breathes, clamps swaying gently where they’re pinching his nipples. His arms are draped at his sides, half-curled hands shaking as he waits, glassy-eyed and grateful. 

Jack doesn’t give permission – instead he hauls Mark’s face forward by his hair, sliding his dick into Mark’s slack mouth until Mark’s throat starts resisting him. Mark flinches and gags, hands flailing briefly before he reaches up to clutch at Jack’s knees, but Jack smacks them away. “Reach around an’ hold yer heels,” he growls, holding tight to Mark’s dyed locks so Mark has to stay put until the gagging subsides. 

There’s tears in the corners of Mark’s eyes as he slides his arms behind himself and wraps his fingers around the sharp heels of his shoes. Jack drags his dick back out of Mark’s throat, strands of spit draping off his cock as he lets the man breathe. 

“Yer fuckin’ _perfect_ ,” Jack tells him, voice rough. 

Mark leans forward, nuzzling his cheek against Jack’s dick since he wasn’t given the go ahead to swallow him down again. Spit and precum streaks his face. “Jack,” he moans, reedy, kitten-licking at rim of Jack’s foreskin and sneaking little licks inside, “Daddy… fuck, _Daddy_ , please choke me again.”

“ _Mark_ ,” Jack groans, lost. He pushes back into Mark’s eager mouth, moaning for Mark’s quick, urgent swallows around him. He grips his hair to keep Mark in place and fucks in deep, Mark’s throat muscles fluttering desperately as Mark starts gagging again. Jack lets up only enough to give himself room to start thrusting, dragging Mark’s face down to his pubic hair and grinding his nose into the coarse fluff. 

Mark’s face is a mess of tears and spit, his hair sticking to his cheek. He moans when Jack pulls back out again and rubs the head of his dick on Mark’s mouth, rutting just between Mark’s swollen lips to tease himself. Jack growls and Mark shivers, looking up at Jack from beneath his damp lashes.

Jack jerks Mark’s head back, making him arch his collared throat and tilt his face up. He releases his hair and smears his fingers through the wetness on Mark’s face, slicking them before wrapping them around his own erection. Mark moans, panting harshly, his eyes rapt as Jack jerks himself off hard and wet and fast. 

“Daddy,” Mark breathes, his expression almost pained, “Jack. Jack please.”

Jack grits his teeth. “ _Talk then_.”

Mark swallows, but it doesn’t help how raspy and wrecked his voice is. “I’m so fucking hard right now, Jack,” he breathes, shuffling just a little closer on his knees, “The plug won’t stop, it’s been driving me _insane_ …” Mark falters and swallows. “Thank you for hurting me, Daddy. I needed it, I needed _you_ , today.”  

“M'always gonna be here when you need it,” Jack promises, panting. He’s so close his toes are curling, balls full and aching with the need to finish. “ _Jesus_ ,” he hisses through clenched teeth, precum dribbling down the underside of his cock.

“Please come on my face, Jack,” Mark murmurs, offering up his tongue. His eyes are half-lidded, less glassy now that he’s stopped crying, the brown of his irises going soft in the dimming afternoon light from the curtained windows. Even with spit still in his facial hair, he’s the prettiest person Jack’s ever seen. “ _Daddy_ ,” Mark slurs, not bothering to retract his tongue to speak. 

Jack comes hard, spurting across Mark’s open mouth and upturned face. Come drips on his tongue and his slap-flushed cheek, catching on his down-turned eyelashes and gathering in the corner of his lips. Mark waits for permission before licking it up, and Jack gives it to him in the form of a short nod, head spinning as he tries to catch his breath. 

Mark licks his lips and around his mouth, but doesn’t try wiping off the rest with his hands. He swallows wetly, gaze not leaving Jack’s face. “Thanks,” he murmurs, voice like chocolate. 

Jack considers fetching himself another wipe to clean up his cock, but instead he grabs a handful of Mark’s hair and hauls him back to his crotch. Mark takes the wordless order and licks up any stray drop of ejaculate, keeping his licking quick and tidy so as not to make further mess. When he’s done, Jack tucks himself back in his pants and does up the zip. 

“Up now, on yer feet,” he says, getting a hand on Mark’s bicep to help him up. Mark wobbles as he gets re-acclimated to the heels, one hand covering Jack’s as he finds his equilibrium. “There we go,” Jack says, keeping his mouth busy to steer them clear of any silent awkwardness. This kind of game was intense for both of them. “Now go on an’ put yer hands behind yer back, cross yer wrists so you remember not ta move 'em without permission.” 

Mark nods, pausing only long enough to smooth his skirt back out – vain little shit – before doing so. He’s the picture of debauchery, strong legs wrapped in fishnet and come still all over his slapped up face. Jack loves him to pieces.  
He digs around in their toys again to find the hitachi wand they’d bought online. For the longest time Jack had just assumed it was for people with vaginas, but then he and Mark had watched some porn together at a hotel during a convention, and he’d been shown the error of his assumptions. 

Still, it was a big, bulky thing, and the cord gave Jack a hard time as he untangled it from a cat'o'ninetails and plugged it in beside the lamp. By the time he’s gotten it all straightened out and wiped down, Mark is breaking the rules and watching him over his shoulder. 

Jack clucks his tongue. “Mark, Daddy didn’t _say_ you could have a peek.”

Mark’s cheeks color beneath the lingering marks. “Oops,” he said, the apology nonverbal but definitely genuine. His smile is nervous as he looks back around in front of himself and ducks his head a little. 

“I’ll let that one go, cos I’m feelin’ generous,” Jack says, flicking the wand on and moving to stand beside Mark. “'Sides, yer arse can’t handle another thwackin’, can it?” 

Mark swallows audibly but doesn’t disagree. Jack flips the back of his skirt up just to admire his work, welts and bruises mottling Mark’s tan skin like smears of paint. He slides the hitachi’s head over the curve of Mark’s ass, nestling it between his cheeks enough that he can press against the base of his butt plug, and Mark cries out like a bird. 

“Oh ho ho,” Jack croons, grinning fiendishly, “This little guy’s still givin’ you a _helluva_ time.” 

“Please,” Mark exhales, a line gathering between his brows. 

Jack moves the wand away and walks around Mark’s front, mindful of the cord dragging behind him. He rucks the front of Mark’s skirt up over his hips as well, exposing his draping erection. Mark’s cock is hot as blood in Jack’s hand when he strokes him, Mark’s entire body shivering helplessly as he stands still and accepts the touch without being able to reciprocate. “Ya keep lookin’ prettier n’ prettier,” Jack remarks, holding Mark’s dick against his belly. Precum smears the skirt’s folds and catches in the untrimmed trail of hair that peppers his stomach. “Can’t wait ta watch ya come all over yerself in a minute.” 

Mark moans, loudly, before he can stop himself. When he bites his lip, Jack shakes his head. 

“I’ve toldja a million times, pet, Daddy likes to hear yer sounds.” Jack toes up a bit so he can comfortably kiss Mark’s ear, letting his breath warm Mark’s skin. “Don’t hold back. If the neighbors don’t _already_ hate us, they probably don’t mind th’ noise.” 

Jack slides the wand up Mark’s inner thigh, teasing the fishnet-clad flesh with the device’s noisy buzzing. He chases Mark’s shivers until he’s nuzzled the vibrator’s head up beneath Mark’s balls, chuckling low in his ear when Mark grunts in over-sensitized pain. 

“Too much?” he purrs, pressing Mark’s balls against his crotch with the wand while he rubs his thumb in slow circles on the head of Mark’s dick. “Is Daddy gettin’ too serious, now? Maybe too _rough_?” 

Mark jerks his head in a short shake no. Jack laughs again, moving the wand up Mark’s dick. Mark’s entire body goes rigid, a sharp, keening noise whistling through his clenched teeth. Jack tortures the thickly veined underside of Mark’s dick, the hitachi’s motor rumbling hard enough that Jack’s fingers are tingling on the handle; it’s forcing almost continuous pained mewls from Mark’s mouth.  

“That’s the good stuff, innit,” Jack muses, roving the vibrator up and down Mark’s dick. Mark laughs, agonized and breathless, and Jack smirks as he bites Mark’s ear. “M'gonna keep this against yer dick and smack th’ rest of yer shaft til you’ve come all over yerself fer Daddy. Sound fun?” 

Mark groans, the loudest noise he’s made yet, and rolls his hips into the toy just once. Jack tsks his lack of control, but he doesn’t punish it. Instead he moves the bulky head of the toy to pin the top of Mark’s dick to his stomach, precum leaking messily over the plastic. 

“So _wet_ fer Daddy,” Jack says affectionately, kissing Mark’s bearded jawline goodbye so he can step around for a better vantage point. “Leakin’ all over the place. I know yer just tryin’ ta tempt me inta blowin’ you instead, but it’s not gonna work. I know _exactly_ what you _really_ need.” 

Jack taps the base of Mark’s cock with the back of three fingers, applying more force with the second and third smacks. He keeps increasing the force until Mark is sobbing out his breaths with his eyes squeezed shut. Jack ducks his head, tugging at one of the nipple clamps with his teeth, and Mark screams, lifting one heeled foot and stamping it on the floor to relieve some of the anguished energy coursing beneath his skin. 

Jack smirks, holding the clamp between his teeth and tugging lightly. Mark’s spine bows briefly as he yells, but he forces himself back in position before Jack can correct him. Jack rewards him by doing the exact same thing to the other clamped nipple, raining small slaps over his balls to keep from overdoing it on his dick. 

“What’s yer safe word?” Jack prompts as he straightens up, sneaking a pinch to the skin of Mark’s dick just under where he’s got the toy. He’s cut so it’s a little harder to get a good hold of his skin, but Jack’s had practice, and Mark screams beautifully for it. 

“Undertale – but I’m only saying it because you asked me,” Mark says in a raspy rush. His eyes are open again, looking at Jack with a kind of panicked adoration. “Please don’t stop,” he mumbles, reddened cheeks getting wet already with fresh tears. Jack leans up and licks some of the hot, salt-tanged dampness away, mindful of the swelling. “Daddy,” Mark mouths when Jack draws away again, his voice failing him, “Please.” 

“Not until you’ve come,” Jack promises, smacking Mark’s dick firmly, “An’ probably not even after that, fer awhile.” 

They kiss, and Jack lets up on the smacking for just a bit, instead reaching around Mark to feel up his ass. The plug’s slipped out a bit so he pushes it back in, biting Mark’s mouth when he gasps. Mark’s lips are pliant beneath his teeth so he worries at his lower lip, tugging, and growls in the back of his throat. He fucks Mark shallowly with the plug, shoving it in at an angle to try and bump his prostate as much as possible. 

“Daddy,” Mark whimpers, the title slurred because Jack’s still biting his mouth. 

“Yer arse is lucky I can’t get hard again so quick,” Jack rumbles out, palming the meat of his ass and gripping hard. Mark’s hips buck compulsively even though that only forces him harder against the wand. “Fuck,” Jack growls, hauling Mark closer to him; he feels the hitachi’s head dig into his stomach but he doesn’t care, knowing it’s giving Mark the necessary solidity to start rolling his hips into the vibrations, the gesture greased by his own precum. “Bitch,” Jack croons, pleased, as he kneads his ass. 

“Tell me I’m yours,” Mark begs, barely above a whisper. 

Jack’s heart melts just a little. “ _All_ mine,” he says, swallowing to keep from going a sappy route. There’s plenty of time for that later. Instead he shoves into Mark hard enough to force the slightly taller man back, walking him backwards until Mark’s back hits the wall and he can push into him again, Mark crying out at the firmer friction of the wand on his tortured dick. “My greedy little bitch,” Jack growls, hoisting one of Mark’s thighs up over his hip; Mark sobs and his hips stutter, Jack’s shirt getting wet. His wrist is killing him from holding the hitachi at this angle for so long, but he ignores the burn, moving the wand head in torturous little circles. “Get yer hands on yer nipples,” Jack says when he realizes Mark’s probably leaned painfully – in the not fun way – on his arms.  

Mark doesn’t have to be ordered into twisting – he just instinctively starts tugging and turning the clamps, chest arching as he pulls them taut. “Like this?” he asks, watching Jack from beneath his tear-dewy lashes again.  
Jack’s lips peel back from his teeth in a brief grimace-growl, the urge to fuck Mark through the wall twisting hot and hard in his belly. He’s getting a slight chub but it’s too soon for much more, much to his frustration. “Fuckin’ slut,” he chuckles angrily, shaking his head, “Always after more attention, aren'tcha?”  

“Only when I want Daddy to hurt me,” Mark whispers, the corner of his mouth twitching into a genuine smile, and Jack smacks him across the face with the back of his hand. 

Mark comes with his heel digging into Jack’s jeans-covered ass, violently thrusting his hips as he shoots all over their stomachs. The vibrator continues to rumble noisily, milking Mark until he’s sobbing and thrashing, dropping the clamps to instead clutch Jack’s biceps with trembling fingers. 

“It’s okay,” Jack murmurs, sliding the wand through Mark’s come to massage the length of his flagging cock, “Daddy’s not gonna stop just yet.” 

Mark’s voice breaks on a sob, his head thumping back against the wall. Jack makes quick work of releasing the clamps from Mark’s nipples, tossing them over his shoulder and massaging the bruised flesh in their wake. Tears run in steady rivets down Mark’s face, his breath hitching in constant pain as Jack works sharp, stinging feeling back into Mark’s nipples, occasionally giving them a cruel little twist for good measure. 

“You’re gonna come again for me,” Jack says calmly, fixating on the top of Mark’s dick with the vibrator again, grinning slightly when the wand splattered wetly on pooled come, “An’ then we’re both headed ta bed.” 

“I _can’t_ ,” Mark sobs, “Jack – Daddy, I can’t come again.” 

“Yes ya can, pet,” Jack disagrees, reaching up with his free hand to cup Mark’s cheek. He brushes away tears with the pad of his thumb. “Daddy wouldn’t ask you unless he knew y’ve got another one in ya.” 

Mark moans miserably, fingers digging into Jack’s arms as he clutches at him. Jack works the vibrator all over his cock and balls, Mark’s hips squirming as he tries to avoid the constant barrage of sensation, but there’s nowhere to go. He continues to sob, panted breaths breaking into desperate gasps, until Jack’s hand slides away from his cheek and instead pushes fingers into Mark’s mouth. Mark whines, sucking, as Jack fucks his fingers in deep. 

It takes a long time for Mark to lose it again, eyes on Jack’s hot, steady gaze. Jack doesn’t try to rush it, letting Mark suffer beautifully on the edge of too fucking much for too fucking long. When he does come, he’s not hard and he doesn’t shoot, but his entire body shudders and he arches his hips, hands sliding from Jack’s arms to the back of his neck. He pulls, and Jack goes with it, sliding his fingers free so he can kiss the pained wails from Mark’s mouth. 

“ _Jesus_ , you were _so good_ ,” Jack praises him, kissing his mouth over and over. He drops the hitachi wand on the floor and kicks it aside, ignoring the angry rumble-buzzing as it rolls under the coffee table, tethered by its cord. “You were so fuckin’ _good_ fer Daddy. I’m so goddamned proud of you, Mark.” 

Mark just winces and nods, too out of it to respond verbally any more. Jack helps him shuffle his way out of the living room and into the bedroom, pausing just long enough to ease the plug out of him – Mark whining brokenly – before having him sit down on the edge of the bed. 

Jack crouches in front of him, sliding Mark’s heels off his feet and kissing his no doubt near-cramping calves, lips skimming the fishnet of his stockings. He rubs his palms over Mark’s legs for a long time, Mark watching him with drowsy, half-closed eyes, before he finally gets to work stripping off his stockings. He kisses Mark’s thighs as he unsnaps the garter belt and slides the fishnet down, mouthing at newly bared gold-bronze skin while Mark moans softly. 

“Jesus,” Jack whispers, reverent, after he gives the bend of Mark’s knee a farewell kiss. “Yer so fuckin’ gorgeous, Mark. M’ the luckiest fuck in th’ world.” 

“Mm,” says Mark, wiggling his toes. But he rubs the back of his neck and smiles, and Jack loves him so much he can’t keep himself from getting up enough to kiss him again. 

The garter belt and skirt come off easy enough, Mark obligingly lifting his arms so Jack can just slip them off upwards instead of making him get up. The skirt is trashed, come stains already rigid on the fabric and flaking, but Jack’s managed to successfully wash worse so he tosses it into the hamper. He fetches a washcloth from the bathroom and gets it damp with warm water before coming back to wipe up Mark’s crotch, mindful of how sore his flaccid dick likely is. 

“Scoot up fer Daddy,” Jack says, and urges Mark back farther on the bed. When Mark’s got enough room, he has the other man roll onto his belly, and Jack begins the lengthy task of cleaning up the welts on his ass. He’s as gentle as he can physically manage as he rubs medicated cream into his skin, pressing kisses to the backs of his thighs as he works, Mark making fussy little mewls whenever Jack gets to split skin within a bruise. “Yer gonna wait fer Daddy right there,” Jack says, and Mark buries his face into a pillow he dragged from the top of the bed and nods. 

Killing time so the stuff has time to dry so Mark doesn’t stick to the sheets, Jack jogs back out to the living room and tidies up their toys. He fetches the hitachi wand from beneath the table and wipes it clean, unplugging it and stowing it away along with the paddle and the clamps. He leaves the box on the coffee table for the night, not wanting Mark to see him toting it around and possibly slipping back into deep sub space. 

Mark isn’t crying when Jack comes back less than two minutes later, which is a good sign, though Jack worries Mark isn’t releasing enough of his post-scene stress. Jack sheds his clothes and gets into bed beside Mark, armed with a juice box and kisses, and he peppers Mark’s bare shoulders with the latter until Mark lifts his face enough to be fed the straw. 

“S'about time ta talk off th’ collar, babe,” Jack says, petting his palm down Mark’s spine. “You ready ta come back?” 

Mark sips feebly at the juice, a line knitting between his brows as he considers, then nods. Jack takes the juice box away and sets it on the bedside table, encouraging Mark to roll over onto his back. Their bedroom is dark, the main lights off, but there’s a lamp on in the corner, and its faint white light bathes Mark’s naked skin in a soft glow. 

Jack takes his time getting Mark’s collar undone. He pets Mark’s jaw and throat, watching the way Mark’s eyelashes flutter and the way he licks his lips, submission bleeding naturally into exhaustion. They both hold their breath, watching each other, when Jack reaches for the buckle and unfastens it. The crystal-decorated leather glides free and Jack lifts it to his mouth, kissing it before setting it down beside the juice. 

“Hey,” Jack says quietly to his boyfriend. 

Mark smiles with sleepy, effortless happiness. “Hi.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you _liked_ this fanfiction, punch that kudos button in the face! ;) 
> 
> And as always, I will see you... on [Tumblr](http://septiplier500.tumblr.com/).


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